Little B
by Bright-Joy
Summary: Cordelia is stuck with the care of a fourteen-year-old tearaway as Wolfram and Hart wait out the return of her mother and the reason for her existence


Disclaimer: The characters of Angel are not mine.

The door slammed loudly. The woman looked up over the box of cereal, and arched one eyebrow at the defensive pose of the girl in front of her.

"Out all night?" she drawled, apparently unconcerned. The dark haired girl shrugged.

"Sleepy," she muttered, heading through the room to her own bedroom. The woman shook her head, and went back to stirring her soggy cereal.

She tossed her clothes on the floor, and clambered into bed, kicking the covers off automatically. She stared up at the ceiling blankly for a few minutes, then rolled over and fell asleep. When she woke up, the light shining through the blind was brighter, and the apartment was silent.

Padding about the linoleum barefoot, Bailey used the last of the milk in the fridge to pour herself a bowl of cereal with brightly coloured cartoons on the box, and bits of marshmallow in it and curled up in the armchair facing the TV. A show with angry people fighting over whose boyfriend had slept with them both blared, and she sat back, tucking her pyjama-clad legs under her, eating her cereal.

As the show came to an end, she dumped the empty bowl in the sink, shoved the milk bottle back in the fridge, and took a shower, enjoying the long hot soak, and washed her hair. Dressing quickly, she left her wet hair trailing over her shoulders and grabbed a bag sat on the floor beside her bed. Without a cursory glanced over the small and shabby apartment, Bailey let the door swing shut, and left.

"Cigarette?" Bailey took it, seating herself on the step beside him. He flicked open a lighter, and touched the end of the white stick, flaring as it met the paper. She drew on it heavily, propping her chin on her fist as she did so.

"Bored?" he asked, disinterestedly. She shook her head, scooting closer as he held open an arm. She leant against him, watching a bent over old woman make her way inside the Chinese grocery shop across the way. Taxis hooted, annoyed, but the woman ignored them, steadfastly going her own way.

"Kiss me," she ordered, suddenly cold. He obliged, sliding arms around her, tasting of smoke. Bailey curled closer, cat-like, combing through her damp hair with one hand, using the other to take a drag on the cigarette.

"Are you?" she asked, suddenly, looking up at him. He shrugged, a lazy half-smile slipping onto his face.

"Always," he replied, lifting her palm to his lips. She smiled, allowing him to, her eyes drifting across the street. They widened, kohl rimmed, and she yanked her hand away abruptly.

"Crap," she muttered, annoyed more than angry. The suit-clad man stepped in front of her, and stopped, looking down at her.

"What's this?" on the step beside her, he began to laugh. "Your sugar daddy? Never thought you were the type."

"She isn't," Lindsey answered mildly, glancing at the girl glaring up at him. "You do know that she's out of school, smoking underage, and if there's one drop of alcohol in her blood I could have you hauled in." It wasn't a question. His jaw dropped open, staring at Bailey, confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his gaze moving from Lindsey to Bailey and back again, clear bewilderment in his eyes. Bailey smiled at him slyly, and stood up, slinging her bag over her arm.

"Let's go," she walked past Lindsey, and slid inside the waiting taxi. Lindsey grinned, shaking his head as he watched the guy try and work out what was going on.

"She's fourteen," he informed him, and walked away, closing the door of the cab on them and it pulled away from the kerb.

"Bailey." She glanced over her shoulder, the light from the window falling across her features. The line of her jaw, the clear resentment in her blue eyes, the dark hair about her skinny shoulders had an uncanny resemblance to her mother. Lindsey uncapped his pen, and began to write, ignoring them both. The woman seated in front of his desk faced the girl, anger filling her.

"Bailey, you can't keep doing this," she said, her voice low, and controlled. "You can't keep blowing off school, appointments, me, everything. You're young. This needs to stop."

"I don't want to stop," Bailey answered calmly, folding her arms across her chest. Cordelia met her eyes in a steady stare.

"You're fourteen," she said, her tone icy. "You don't know what you want. And even if you did, well tough luck. We're on the line here. We have no clue what is going on, if you're safe.." The brief flash of Queen C faded, and her eyes softened. "Bailey, all we want is your safety."

"And the blood tests, and the cryptic old guys wanting to read my thoughts, and the vampires, and the witches, and everything else?" Bailey rattled, surprised at herself, dangerously close to tears but keeping them back. She searched for nonchalance, shook back her hair with a devious smile, calm once more. "You can't keep me here. You're not my mother."

"No," Lindsey interjected, looking up from the paperwork. "But if you leave the company of Ms Chase, you will still be under the legal guardianship of Wolfram and Hart. Wherever we choose to put you, you will go." He smiled, but there was a nastier note in it. "Don't underestimate me, Bailey. I can make life exceptionally difficult for you."

"Try me," the girl invited, snaking her arms up to run her hands through her hair, sending him a deliberately inviting look under her eyelashes, moving her body in a seductive pose. "You know my mother, Lindsey. What was she like? Did she screw hard?" she asked with affected innocence in her voice.

Lindsey stiffened, a muscle leaping in his jaw. Bailey smiled to herself, triumph in her eyes. "What was it like, being used by her?" she asked, idly, playing with a paper knife on the edge of his desk. "I wouldn't know, you see. Did she think you were an ineffectual sap? Did you make life-"she paused, choosing her words with careful thought to twist the knife. "Difficult for her? Or did you fall for her, screw her, and let her murder one of your boss's partners?" She tapped the tip of her finger against her lip, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Bailey, if you don't behave-"

"What? What can you do to me?" Bailey snapped bitterly, anger flooding her eyes once more. She laughed, wildly. "There's nothing. You can't lay a finger on me, Lindsey. Ms Chase is hardly an effective babysitter," she tossed with scorn at Cordelia. "I'll just take my own way, until Mommy dearest makes her way back to collect me," she finished, drawing her knees up to her chest and hugging them.

_She's already on her way_


End file.
